The Choices We Make
by Laura the infamous B
Summary: The way JA The Call To Vengeance should have ended! (Well, at least I think so. *grin*) My first attempt at a JA fic. I hope you enjoy.


An alternative ending to Jedi Apprentice: The Call To Vengeance   
If you haven't read this book, you won't understand why I wrote this.   
If you have read this book, you _will_ understood why I wrote it. :)   
Picks up during the events of page 128.   
  


The Choices We Make   
by Laura Boeff 

At last, Qui-Gon's enemy lay at his feet, just as he'd imagined. He stood over Balog, his   
lightsaber high, prepared for the stroke that would bring him so much satisfaction.   
Then his saber dropped.   
"Qui-Gon, no!"   
A beam of green light intersected his and fire sizzled along the joined sabers, mere   
inches from Balog's throat.   
He was being denied! It almost made him want to scream. How could Obi-Wan deny   
him? This was Tahl's killer. This man was a creation of evil, and him an implement of justice.   
How could anyone deny him the revenge in his heart?!   
How **_dare_** anyone to try!   
His blade sang; darted, attacked, was deflected and met. A flurry of blows were traded   
as Qui-Gon fought desperately to bring his lightsaber an inch closer to Tahl's killer. An inch   
closer to satisfaction.   
"Qui-Gon, stop this! This is not the way of the Jedi!"   
Obi-Wan's voice was an annoyance in his ears. Way of the Jedi? No, he knew it wasn't,   
but right now he did not care. How could he care? All that he had cared about had been ripped   
away from him by this evil creature that lay on the floor blubbering as the Jedi's dueled.   
"Qui-Gon, please." Desperation sang in his Padawan's voice, but it touched him not.   
Only darkness touched him, fed him, and he did not deny it.   
"Get!" A swing. "Out!" A parry. "Of!" A feint. "My!" A dodge. "Way!   
And a wrong move.   
His saber hissed threw the air as the young man stumbled, caught off balance. There   
was the sizzle of heat on skin and the stink of burning cloth and flesh as the tip of Qui-Gon's   
blade danced up over Obi-Wan's chest and along his collar bone. Obi-Wan screamed in pain, his   
lightsaber dropping to the floor as he collapsed in front of Balog, gasping for air.   
Time seem to snap to a standstill. Qui-Gon was frozen, staring down at his Padawan as   
if seeing him for the first time. His chest heaved in both exertion and desperation. His mind was   
a swirl of confusion; torn between the shock that he had just struck down his apprentice and the   
drive to finish what he started and deliver justice to Balog.   
"Look!" Obi-Wan sobbed, hand clutching at his injury as he stared earnestly up at him.   
"Look at what your anger has done, Qui-Gon. This is not the way. This.. this is not your way." The   
youth swayed, eyes squeezing shut against the pain. "This.. isn't Tahl's way...."   
It was like a slap in the face and Qui-Gon took a step back involuntarily. Tahl... Tahl, his   
friend, his.. love... Shaking his head against the stifling wall of confusion, Qui-Gon caught sight   
of himself in the hazy reflection of a marble vase polished to a high sheen. Saw the darkness,   
the anger that was etched into every line of his continence.   
Darkness... He.. he'd touched the darkness.. Welcomed it....   
Tahl would be upset. Horrified.   
No....   
He was not even aware of dropping his saber, the blade disappearing as it hit the ground   
and bounced with a hollow clang. Could only look in a stupor as the door burst open. Mace and   
Bant rushed in, the young Calamari not stifling a gasp at what they found. Mace was even more   
taciturn, pushing past and securing Balog, once and for all guaranteeing that Tahl's killer would   
be beyond the reach of Qui-Gon's justice.   
His justice...   
A fist clenched.   
His revenge.   
"Obi-Wan?" Bant's soft, worried voice. He looked to were she was knelling in front of his   
Padawan. Obi-Wan was slumped forward, kept up only by one arm and pure determination. He   
shook his head, but what the gesture meant he was not sure. As if through a thick fog Qui-Gon   
felt his Padawan's pain, and even more he felt the tendril of despair through their weak and   
thready connection.   
The damage he had done. Oh Force, what had he done?   
"Obi-Wan?" he called as well, knelling worriedly in front of his apprentice. Bant stiffened   
and flashed him a distrusting look and he could not meet it. Instead he sought out his own   
Padawan's eyes. They flickered up to him, pain-filled and sorrowful. He reached out for the   
young man but Obi-Wan flinched back, eyes wincing shut as the injury was jarred.   
"Obi-Wan.." he said helplessly. Then he was shoved aside and not kindly so. Mace   
delivered a glare that had all the power of a physical blow and crouched down before Obi-Wan.   
"Let me see," he ordered, not unkindly and Obi-Wan complied. Bant wrapped an arm   
around him and supported him as Mace inspected the injury. Obi-Wan did not flinch away from   
_his_ touch and Qui-Gon felt something in him curl up in agony at that. The wounds he had   
caused. The ones you could and could not see.   
"Focus. Accept the pain," Mace schooled him calmly.   
"Trying..." Obi-Wan confessed through gritted teeth. And he was. Qui-Gon could feel it   
through the shredded remains of their bond. The bond he'd all but destroyed in his angry thirst   
for justice.   
"No try, do," Bant said in amazing imitation of Yoda. Obi-Wan chuckled then winced, but   
smiled his gratitude to his friend.   
In this time, others had arrived. Security forces, and the room was becoming quickly   
overflowed.   
"Come. Let's get you to the medical center," Mace decided, satisfied that Balog was in   
safe hands. Qui-Gon moved forward to help but Mace moved and blocked his way, forming a   
formidable wall between him an his apprentice as they assisted in getting Obi-Wan up. He could   
only trail like a lost soul behind them as they left.   
"Tell Manex I will be contacting him shortly with a full report," Mace said to one security   
agent as they departed. The man just nodded his compliance and Mace left it at that as they   
sought medical help for Obi-Wan's injury. 

*** 

That had been two days ago. Two days that he had spent guarding Tahl's body and   
contemplating his own fall from the light. It was all he could do. Mace had made it damn clear he   
was to have no contact with his Padawan until the Council decided on the matter of his   
transgressions. He had managed only the briefest of visits to Obi-Wan; while he was   
recuperating on the ship, deep asleep in his room, the bandage across his chest easily visible   
beneath his thin night shirt.   
He had only watched, not wishing to disturb his recovering Padawan when, as if   
magically, out of nowhere Mace had popped up and simply stared him into retreat. Mace was not   
on the Council without good reason. And Qui-Gon knew his standing was shaky at best. Nothing   
would be gained with further defiance and more could be lost if he did not control his stubborn   
pride and desperate worry.   
"Take care of him." Had been his only quiet request of the imposing Master.   
"I will." Had been Mace's reply, with an edge that spoke of his conviction to a task   
Qui-Gon himself had failed at.   
So he retreated to his vigil over Tahl's body. Anger had come and gone and come again   
in him as he watched her still form. And such anger that it frightened him with it's single-minded   
madness.   
Tahl would be pissed at him. It was one of the few things that kept his rage in check. She   
would be furious and she would chew his ear off for giving into his anger, for courting the   
Darkside on her behalf. And that fact only added to his guilt. He wanted to be angry. He _needed_   
to be angry, because if he wasn't angry, he would have no choice but to grieve. To finally see   
that her death was something he would have to accept.   
And he didn't know if he could accept it. Accept her being gone.   
But accept he somehow had too. Already Tahl's body was being made ready for her   
funeral, having been taken away upon their arrival at the temple. No longer could he sit at her   
silent side. Could no longer watch her face, waiting, in a hopeless way, that she might open her   
eyes. That she would live for him.   
Hopeless. Just hopeless.   
Which was how he felt in a way as he stared out over Coruscant from one of the temples   
many balconies. Yes, lost and uncertain and afraid at what he had done, and yet still angry that   
he had not done more and knowing that doing more would have assured his turning to the   
Darkside.   
Qui-Gon shuddered. Hypocrite. It was the kindess word he could think of for himself.   
Such a hypocrite. Dwelling so long in his life of Xanatos' fall and how that had hurt him. Of   
fretting over accepting Obi-Wan in the fear that he to would turn Darkside one day. And, in the   
end, it was himself that welcomed that dark power. It was *him* that gave up the Jedi ideals he   
touted so passionately. Gave them up when they denied him the revenge he was certain he   
needed.   
Hypocrite.   
He stared out unseeing at the ships that filled the Coruscant sky.   
Hypocrite.   
Amongst other things... 

*** 

Two days had come and gone and still Obi-Wan felt no better than he had when he had   
been led onto the ship back to Coruscant in a daze. Sure, his wounded shoulder was well near   
healed, no more then a tender scar, but the other hurts... Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath, letting   
it out slowly. He had not felt this lost since Melida/Daan. Since that time he faced that trial of   
uncertainty in himself. Lost and alone and once again without Qui-Gon to turn to for advice. If his   
master had any advice to give, given his current state of mind.   
He shook his head, plucking at the bluish-green grass he was sitting on. He was tucked   
into a secluded corner of the temple garden, tossing blades of grass absently into the reflecting   
pool in front of him.   
"Obi-Wan?"   
The hesitant voice was unmistakable and he looked up to see Bant craning her head   
curiously at him, pausing a short distance away, awaiting his permission to come closer.   
"Hi, Bant." He tried to smile but it didn't feel right.   
"Hey," she said and came alongside him, sitting. "How are you feeling?"   
A shrug that pulled at still healing skin, but didn't really hurt. "Okay, I guess."   
"You guess?" Bant didn't have eyebrows to raise, but she relayed her pessimism with her   
voice. He sighed and gave up mutilating the grass.   
"My wound's healed. It doesn't hurt anymore."   
"You still seem in pain," she ventured.   
He was. He wasn't. Force he didn't know what to feel anymore!   
"Obi-Wan?" Bant said softly and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry."   
Huh? Obi-Wan blinked in confusion at her. "None of this is your fault, Bant."   
"No, but I still treated you very badly. I.. I said some awfully cold things to you and I feel   
bad. I didn't mean them, I was just.. angry."   
Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "I understand. I didn't then.. but I do now."   
"You're mad at Qui-Gon?"   
He took a deep breath before answering. "No. Not mad.. not at Qui-Gon. Just.. mad at   
everything that's happened. At how everything went wrong."   
Bant nodded with him, sighing heavily. "I miss Tahl," she confessed sadly.   
Obi-Wan nodded and gave her a reassuring hug.   
"So do I," he admitted. "So do I."   
They were silent a moment in their misery and Obi-Wan noticed, off-handedly, that Bant   
was now plucking at the grass ruthlessly.   
"So how do you feel about master Qui-Gon now?"   
It was a question Obi-Wan was not sure how to answer.   
"Sad.. I guess. I can't say I understand exactly why he did what he did, but I know his   
grief for Tahl was overwhelming. I.. I just wished I could have helped him more with his grief. If..   
if he could have come to me, maybe then he wouldn't have done what he did."   
"It was his choice, Obi-Wan."   
He nodded and felt even more miserable for the fact. "Yeah. But still.... I.. thought we   
were closer. I know we had a rough start but I thought that was past us, that we were.."   
Friends. But he didn't have the will to say it. Qui-Gon had turned away from his every   
offer of support. His every gesture of compassion. And the bond between them had become no   
more then a haze of fathomless gray that seemed to smother his faith in their partnership.   
"Not your fault, Obi-Wan. You did all you could. For Qui-Gon and for me. Thank you,"   
Bant assured with a hug of her own. He leaned into her, almost desperate for some form of   
solace.   
"Thanks. That means a lot to me."   
Bant hugged him again. "It's only the truth."   
"Still good to hear. I just don't know what will happen now, and I know I should just be   
patient and wait and accept what comes, but.. it's so hard."   
"It'll get easier, Obi-Wan. It will."   
"But it'll never be the same, Bant. That's the part that hurts the worst."   
"You don't think the council will let Qui-Gon be you master anymore?" she asked.   
He looked out at the perfectly still water of the reflecting pool heart breaking.   
"I don't know if I want him to be my master anymore."   
Bant could not repress her gasp of surprise. "You can't mean that, Obi-Wan! You and   
Qui-Gon have been through so much together."   
"And still it didn't matter to him!" Obi-Wan snorted, surprised at how bitter he felt, then   
shook his head feeling one tear sneaking free even as he fought it back. "I've tried so hard to be   
the best Padawan I could be. I know I'm not perfect, not by a longshot, but... but it's like no   
matter what I do, I just can't seem to get Qui-Gon to accept me. Really accept me! But what's   
worse; worse then never quite having his acceptance is the fact that.. that..."   
He couldn't talk, the words tangled up in his constricted throat. His hurt, his despair and   
his anger rushing over him like a wave of agony. He was not even aware that Bant was hugging   
him again while tears tracked unchecked over his face as he fought to accept his pain, to let it   
come and go and leave his mind at peace. But while the emotions came easily, they seemed   
determined not to be banished.   
"That what?" Bant pressed gently, compassionately.   
He licked lips gone dry and swallowed heavily.   
"I don't know if I can trust him anymore, Bant. I.. I just don't know if I can..."   
He buried into her embrace and just cried, ashamed and yet relieved to do so.   
"Give it time, Obi-Wan. Give yourself time. Give Qui-Gon time."   
Time. It was all he had and it was not what he needed. 

*** 

The nearly imperceptible scuff of soft robes on stone reached his sharp ears, interrupting   
his silent contemplation's even as he became aware of an old and familiar presence.   
"So has the Council decided my punishment?" Qui-Gon's voice held no inflection as he   
turned to face Yoda. He knew he was in the wrong and he would accept whatever was deemed   
appropriate for his actions.   
Yoda sniffed and studied his former apprentice for a moment. Qui-Gon felt distinctly   
uncomfortable in the short Master's piercing gaze.   
"Decided we have not," he said at last. "Many issues to consider."   
"Issues?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. He had been thorough and honest in his report.   
He had left nothing out that could cast speculation on his actions.   
Yoda's eyes never left his. "Yes. Decide we must about Obi-Wan."   
Qui-Gon felt muscles clench slightly in alarm. "Obi-Wan played no part in my   
misdeeds..."   
"Know this I do," Yoda interrupted mercilessly. "Behaved like Jedi, he did."   
It was a rebuke as much as a concession and Qui-Gon had the good sense to wince.   
Yoda's reproachful gaze did not relent, nor did his glowering expression change.   
"On matters of who his master should be, we discuss."   
Master? It felt like a pit had opened and his heart was swallowed into it's murky depths at   
the thought of Obi-Wan being given to another to be trained. He couldn't really argue it, given   
the atrocities he'd committed, but still...   
"Must that happen?" he asked softly.   
Yoda said nothing for a moment, staring at him as if looking for something.   
"Should happen, I believe," was the Master's retort and edged with anger.   
Yoda wanted to take Obi-Wan away from him? His dismay reached his face and Yoda   
snorted at him.   
"Now, now you worry about Obi-Wan," he railed. "Worry you did not when you should   
have."   
"I did my best to keep him from getting involved..." Qui-Gon tried only to receive the   
sharp end of Yoda's gimmer stick in his knee.   
"Second!" the Master declared defiantly. "Always second he was to you. Second he was   
when you pursued Xanatos. Second he was when you pursued Tahl. Not first, as a Padawan   
should be! You have been more then selfish, you have been unworthy of him. Great Jedi he   
shall be. Same may not be said of you!" The stick slammed into the ground in emphasis and   
Qui-Gon had no argument. There was none. Yoda was right. He'd held himself to far apart from   
his apprentice. Had kept him second place in his heart and then lied to himself that this was the   
best way for Obi-Wan to learn. This was the safe way.   
He shook his head and laughed bitterly.   
"I knew I was in the wrong and yet refused to see I was in the wrong. Worse, I did not   
want to be in the wrong." He swallowed heavily. "I have lost so much, Master. And I have   
committed wrongs. Such great wrongs. But... but I do not want to lose Obi-Wan. Any punishment   
I will accept if you will give me your blessing to keep training him."   
He did not duck away from Yoda's direct gaze though it made him nervous as the   
seconds past. Then, Yoda sighed, eyes closing and the anger left his face to be replaced by   
sadness.   
"My forgiveness you do not need. Discuss with Obi-Wan about this we will. His needs to   
be met, not yours."   
Qui-Gon lowered his head. "I understand."   
"Do you?" Yoda lifted an ear up at him. "About time it is then."   
A wry, painful smile quirked his lip. "Yes, it is about time. About damn time." He looked   
helplessly at his former Master. "There must be a way..."   
His voice drifted, uncertain and afraid. Obi-Wan. Bright, brilliant, clever, impulsive and   
stubborn. His Padawan was an endless bundle of honesty and determination, and the last bright   
spot he had in his life. He had wronged the boy badly. Had shoved him and his compassion away   
when he should have drawn his apprentice close and accepted the love he gave. The support he   
offered. But he had been selfish. And he had been stupid and angry. So very stupid and angry.   
But how could he atone for his wrongs if he was separated from the Padawan?   
Yoda tapped the ground with his stick, then looked up.   
"Go back to the Council I must. Talk to Obi-Wan we will in time." He did not smile but   
compassion lit his dark eyes. "Time also, I think it is, for you to speak with Obi-Wan as well, hmm?"   
Yoda said no more, turning and leaving him staring in shock. Yoda had just lifted the ban   
against him meeting with his apprentice. Had given him this gift he did not deserve.   
And it a was a gift he was damn determined not to waste! 

*** 

He wandered not quite aimlessly back to his quarters. Obi-Wan was feeling better. His   
talk with Bant had helped to banish some of the demon uncertainties he had not been totally   
aware of harboring in himself. But, he still was no more certain as to what the future held. Was   
not certain what even to do.   
"Obi-Wan?"   
He looked up with a start. The voice was familiar, but not expected.   
"Master," the word seemed to trip on his lips as he looked up at the towering Jedi.   
Qui-Gon looked worn and tired, faced lined with pains that still hovered around him like gnats.   
But what touched him most was the sadness, the worry in his eyes as Qui-Gon studied his   
Padawan.   
"Hello, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon greeted him, voice rough but warm. "I was hoping we might   
talk."   
Obi-Wan frowned worriedly.   
"But won't you get in trouble? Mace ordered you..."   
Qui-Gon interrupted with a slight gesture of his hand. "I have been granted a slight   
reprieve from a high, or perhaps I should say, low standing member of the Council."   
Yoda. Obi-Wan almost laughed at his Master's description of the short Jedi. Almost.   
"If you are not comfortable with this," Qui-Gon started at his hesitation, and Obi-Wan   
could feel the hurt picking at the remnants of their bond.   
"No," he blurted, "No, I would like to talk."   
Qui-Gon offered a small smile filled with relief and gestured to a nearby lounge. There   
were many set up in the Temple, for use in meditation and conversation. They sat not quite   
across from each other, Obi-Wan tucking his hands into his robe sleeves to hide his fidgeting.   
The silence seemed almost oppressive but Obi-Wan was uncertain what to say. Qui-Gon spoke   
first, to his relief.   
"How are you? How is your injury?"   
"Okay," he said. "It's almost healed. It doesn't hurt anymore."   
"It shouldn't have hurt in the first place," Qui-Gon sighed wistfully. "I should have not   
hurt you. I'm glad that I can finally tell you how sorry I am for attacking you like that. And tell you   
how proud I am that you had the strength to challenge me. Could stand by the ideals of the Jedi   
even while I dismissed the code as nothing more than a nuisance."   
Obi-Wan was surprised how much Qui-Gon's approval of his actions meant to him. How   
it seemed to settle his unsettled stomach and niggle at his aching heart.   
"I had a good teacher," he mumbled, feeling out of his element with Qui-Gon's open   
confession.   
Qui-Gon snorted softly. "Have you? I wonder."   
Obi-Wan didn't know what to say to that, nor did Qui-Gon pause for any answer he might   
come up with, continuing in a distant voice. "The Council also wonders."   
"Wonders what?" Obi-Wan couldn't help but ask. Blue eyes flickered to him, resting   
momentarily on his face before dropping away.   
"Whether I am a good teacher for you."   
"Oh," Obi-Wan whispered, now really not sure what to say.   
"They.. they will speak to you about it," Qui-Gon added.   
He spoke without thinking. "Me?"   
Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, you. They wish to know your feelings about.. remaining my   
apprentice."   
"Oh." And once again he didn't know what to say.   
"May.. may I ask your feelings about it?" Qui-Gon pressed cautiously. Obi-Wan gulped   
deeply, now totally unable to look at his master. His earlier conversation with Bant rushed back   
and his uncertainties, his fears, seemed ready to overwhelm him.   
"I.. see," Qui-Gon murmured in the ensuing silence, failing to fully mask the hurt in his   
voice.   
Obi-Wan wanted to say something reassuring, but if he did, it might not be the truth.   
Instead, he answered a question with a question.   
"What do you think about it?"   
Qui-Gon was a quiet a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I can understand the Council's   
worries and even their actions. They are not wrong in wanting the best for you. But I..." He   
stopped and took a deep breath. "I hope they will not. That they might grant me a reprieve to   
prove myself worthy of being a teacher. Of being your teacher." Then he turned to the young   
man. "But before any of that might come about, I must first ask your forgiveness. Your   
forgiveness for failing you so miserably."   
"You didn't fail me," Obi-Wan blurted without thinking.   
A sad smile graced Qui-Gon's lips. "I did. In so many ways. I know I have done great   
harm to our relationship, our bond, with both my ignorance and arrogance."   
"You were upset about Tahl, Master. I understand that," Obi-Wan offered.   
"Ah, but understanding is not necessarily accepting." Qui-Gon nodded to himself. "And   
what I did was not acceptable. What I still want to do..."   
"You're still angry? About her death?" And Obi-Wan's earlier fear and apprehension   
swelled up in him. He'd seen the fury in Qui-Gon and it left him faltering in a sea of misgiving.   
"I am. I try, but cannot seem to be able to accept her being gone. Cannot release the   
hatred in me that I should have done more. To prevent her death. To avenge it."   
Obi-Wan grew darkly silent. The anger. The haze of emotions that had cut him off from   
his Master and they were still there. Still between them. He shivered without realizing it and was   
startled when a hand touched his.   
"Will you share your thoughts with me?" Qui-Gon asked gently.   
Obi-Wan licked his lips uncertainly. What he had been thinking.. it wasn't flattering.   
"Please, Obi-Wan?"   
Another moments silence then a sigh from himself. "I was thinking of how I hated the   
anger. How.. How it came between us. How it made you a stranger and kept you from.. from   
letting me help you," he confessed in a rush, fighting to keep tight rein on his emotions.   
"Yes. I did let my anger get in the way. I fear.. fear in the future it still might. I will not   
deny my own weakness. I just ask, and hope for, your forgiveness for giving into my own failings.   
"I can forgive you, Master..." Obi-Wan murmured quietly.   
"But?" Qui-Gon filled in, uncertainly.   
"I.. I'm not sure about trusting you.. Master." It was the hardest thing for him to say. And   
when Qui-Gon grew silent, so still and silent, he thought that anything and anyway to make   
things right between them was lost.   
"I'm sorry," he said for the lack of anything better. Qui-Gon did look at him now. Sternly   
so.   
"Do not apologize for speaking the truth. Never!" he said firmly, then his features   
softened. "You have every right for distrusting me. I abused the trust you put in me."   
"As I did to your trust at Melida/Daan."   
"No." Qui-Gon shook his head. "Even at Melida/Daan I was failing you. I was judging you   
by the actions of another. I was putting you second to my own insecurity. You are Jedi. Your   
whole life you have been taught to do what you believe is right, not to simply follow blindly. You   
tried. Tried to balance your need to help with your desire to obey me. It was my failure, not   
yours. I am your teacher, your guide, but I only demanded and preached. I did not explain or   
compromise."   
"Tahl was hurt," Obi-Wan interjected meekly, now totally at a lost.   
"Yes. And once again I put your needs behind hers." The hand tightened around his   
cautiously. "I can not ask you to so blithely trust me again. I have no right, for trust, like all things   
precious, must be earned." Qui-Gon took a steadying breath. "I will not say it will be easy, what   
the future might bring, but I do truly desire to be allowed to try and regain that trust, Padawan."   
Obi-Wan was silent for a moment, processing what Qui-Gon had said. It was everything   
he hoped for and yet, in a way, nothing. Words. It was the actions that backed up those words   
that truly mattered. Actions that would require a degree of willingness on his part. A willingness   
to try: to give Qui-Gon the time needed: the chance wanted.   
Then Bant's once again too wise words returned to him. _"Give it time, Obi-Wan. Give_   
_yourself time. Give Qui-Gon time." _And found the only answer, filled with uncertainty as it was,   
that he wanted.   
"I would like to regain that trust too," he said at last in a small voice, daring a glance up   
to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon meet his seeking gaze, eyes warm and sad and regretful and yet hopeful.   
Complex emotions for a complex man who nodded with a slight smile himself. Then a large arm   
reached out and gently encased him-- the gesture so unlike his usually reserved Master that, for   
a moment, Obi-Wan was frozen, uncertain.   
"No matter what the future holds for both of us, good or ill, remember that you are my   
Padawan and I am be proud of you and will care for you always," Qui-Gon told him softly, with a   
sincerity that resonated through their slowly healing bond. And at last he could bring his arms up   
and give into Qui-Gon's unrelenting hug, returning the tight embrace.   
"I guess time will be the ultimate judge for both of us," he managed, throat tight with   
emotion and eyes once again threatening to tear no matter how much he did not want them too.   
Qui-Gon released him, though he kept one hand on his good shoulder, looking down on   
him with eyes that seemed suspiciously wet as well.   
"Wise words my, Padawan. Wise words," he concurred, then a beep of pager rudely   
announced itself. Qui-Gon pulled the small unit from his robes and held it to his ear. Made a   
noise of affirmation and secreted it away again.   
Both worried and curious Obi-Wan waited till his Master faced him once more, features   
grave but not so.. burdened, it seemed.   
"I am summoned before the Council," Qui-Gon said simply, putting no emphasis in the   
words, or pressure on him for a response. But, at last, Obi-Wan finally felt that it was time to do   
something, something, if even in a small way, to sort out this mess.   
"I.. I would like to accompany you, if I may? If you think it would be.. appropriate."   
Qui-Gon smiled gently. "Yoda did say the Council would wish to speak with you and I   
would be happy for you to accompany me," he said, rising gracefully.   
Obi-Wan rose with him, settling in at his side. "Then we best be going," was all he could   
say. And it seemed enough, for both himself and his Master.   
Qui-Gon nodded and led the way.   
"Then let us see what the future holds. For both of us."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
